


how to 'wu' your favorite waterbender

by hawktasha



Series: Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Badass Katara, Besides that I suck at tags, Crack, Day 2: Media Monday, F/M, I don't know what more to say, Minor cursing, Stubborn Katara (Avatar), ZFAW, Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week, Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week 2020, Zutara Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27688948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hawktasha/pseuds/hawktasha
Summary: When Zuko gets to the conclussion he is deeply in love with one of his oldest friends, the chivalry —in the form of everyone's favorite fortune teller— comes to help.
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022698
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	how to 'wu' your favorite waterbender

**Author's Note:**

> HI! This is my first participation in the Zutara Fanwork Appreciation week.
> 
> Zutara Fanwork Appreciation Week; Day 2 - Media Monday; inspired by @JOWANIBAKUGO's video on twitter (https://twitter.com/JOWANIBAKUGO/status/1317810343754698752?s=20)

Two years have passed since the end of the war, two years since his coronation in front of the retrieving groups and his closest friends. Two years of incessant and exhausting reformations towards peace. In retrospective, it all came to that day, when lighting struck through his body and both his sister and father were defeated. 

For Zuko tough, it all came to the following week, the annual celebration of the end of the war and the celebrations and ballroom that came within. 

Dignitaries from all across the globe were going to stay in the capital, the most important of them even inside the palace itself, among the visitors' wing. There would be scrutiny watching every single one of his moves and words, people waiting for him to make a mistake that allowed them to take him down the throne. To stop the young Fire Lord reign. 

But none of that fazed Zuko, neither did it preoccupy him in the slightest. After two years of coups and nosy nobility he was more than prepared for the week. 

What did make him want to crawl from his skin and nearly convert him in the first firebender to die from spontaneous combustion was the presence of someone else. Certain waterbender. His _friend_. 

Which was beyond silly, really. He had been a refugee, fought against the Dai Li, faced his father and redirected lighting at him, nearly died against her sister. . . Not to mention he had become the ruler of a broken country at the very age of seventeen!

And he was nervous because one of his old friends —his only friends for that matter— was coming to visit. 

But again, she wasn’t just a friend for him. Or at least, he wished she was _more_. 

Which was the center of his nervousness. 

He doesn’t really know when _it_ started, nor he knows how he didn’t realize before. 

It took him several months of nightmares after his encounter with Azula —nightmares where he didn’t get to her on time, where she died in his arms— and even more months of letter exchanging with said waterbender to found out that, against all lucidity of mind, he was deeply and irrevocably in love with her. 

And he would have not acted on those feelings, he would have not even acknowledged those feelings and would have carried them to his grave. 

It was easy, really. First, because Zuko was sure her heart belonged to another (the Avatar no less!); and second because he was sure she would castrate him if he even dared to try anything. It has already been hard enough to gain her trust (back) and being considered a friend. 

He would have bottled up his feelings and carried on with his life if someone wouldn’t have given him hope. 

Someone being a certain minx earthbender. 

‘ _She doesn’t like Aang, you know._ ’ she had said to him a few months back in one of her visits, out of the blue. _Why_ , he’d asked himself, but the look on his uncle's face told him enough. ‘ _Oh, if you could have felt her heartbeat when you’re nearby_ .’ She continued, grinning mischievously. ‘ _You’d have to be blind— Oh, wait! Even blind people can sense it, your Idiotness_.’

So, against better judgment; here he was, in front of a neatly packed leather book some of his uncle’s friends had sent to him. _Aunt Wu_ , a fortune teller.

Zuko failed to see how some fraud that read palms and told people nonsense about their future would be of any help, neither why he ended accepting his uncle meddling in the first place; but here he was. 

In front of him, on his study’s desk, a handwritten manual with the words ‘ _How to Wu your favorite waterbender_ ’ graved on its front page. 

It seemed easy enough, or so he thought. 

* * * 

_Step 1: Get on her good side_

It was an easy step, Zuko thought. At least, one he was accustomed to. He spent weeks while they were still traveling and training the Avatar doing so, trying to earn her forgiveness. 

But _now_ , well now it was a different story. 

He was already on her good side, or he liked to think that at least. So, _what was he supposed to do?_

He decided that waiting for her —and by extension, the Water Tribe delegation— on the port was a good start. 

It seemed to work, or so he thought when she practically jumped off the railing and nearly tackled him in a bone crushing hug. He was glad she chose to leave her hair loose too, or otherwise he was sure his burning cheeks wouldn’t have escaped the eyes of their public. He didn’t want to let go of her, but the sound of clearing throats beside them made the choice for him. 

“ _Isn’t there a hug for me, jerkbender?_ ” Sokka had cried, causing the warriors and his sister to burst out laughing. Zuko nearly did too, but he was concentrating on hiding the remains of his reaction to the hug from his features. 

The first move seemed to have worked. Now he just has to continue working on step _one_ of his plan while in the palace. That may be a little more difficult. 

Between his schedule and the last minute summonings from his council he barely had time to plan anything special, and soon the rest of the gang joined them. 

It was getting more difficult each hour, each passing day, to get some alone time with her; but somehow he thought he was doing okay. 

He had shown her his favorite part of the palace, the turtleduck garden his mother used to bring him when he was feeling down or lonely. He had helped her escape from the clutches of his servants and guards and onto the city, both wearing disguises to not being recognized, when he felt her getting anxious of the scrutiny and pampering that being inside the palace walls involved. 

Each passing second he was with her he could feel himself falling deeper and deeper for the waterbender, and yet he still had no idea if his actions were succeeding or if he would just made a fool of himself.

That was, of course, until he heard an interesting conversation between said waterbender, the Avatar and his brother. (No, he wasn’t eavesdropping, he was just casually passing by the corridors when the words catched his ears.)

_“C’mon, Katara; we know you like him.” Sokka muttered, followed by a shriek he assumed came from said girl and a confused (and possibly hurt) “Who!?” from the airbender._

_Then there were a few moments of silence where Zuko grew impatient as he waited for Sokka to keep talking, luckily giving him good news (but who are we kidding, when was he lucky) and then; “Shut up, Sokka! Shut-the-fuck-up!” followed by a splash and some angry footsteps._

It looked like there was still hope for Zuko, even though he wished with every fiber in his being that Sokka had continued his revelation.

It was time for _step two._

  
  


* * *

_Step 2: Don’t be too obvious!_

He was in his study, _again_ , looking perplexed at the writing in the slightly crumpled pages he had practically memorized after two hours of reading over and over again. 

“ _Aunt Wu’s advice seems great help,_ ” he muttered “ _it seemed to be really working before, but. . ._ ” he continued, pacing back and forth beside his desk, his eyes fluttering between the pages trying to find some hidden paragraph or line that may had escape his previous reading. “ _Shit!_ ” he yelled, hitting the surface of the desk with his open palm. “ _How in Agni’s name could I not make my_ **_advances_ ** _too obvious? She will notice!”_

He continued his previous pacing, growling and cursing under his breath while he worked his brain out to come to a conclusion. And then it hit him. 

Almost a week had passed since the arrival of his friends, and they were due to stay in the Fire Nation for a week more than the rest of the dignitaries —his idea, if anyone asked of course, but wouldn’t have worked out without his uncle’s helping hand—. That left Zuko little time to act if he wanted to be successful, even less if he wanted his plan to be unnoticed by his friends (at least the part of his friends that weren’t concerned about the plan, _Katara, on the other hand…_ ). 

_That’s it!_ Zuko thought. In two days, the great ball was being held in the palace. In two days, he would continue with Aunt Wu’s advice. 

He would make his advances go unnoticed, he could do that. 

* * *

He couldn’t do it. 

He was sure he was doing okay, more than okay in fact. 

He had stepped into that ballroom in his full Fire Lord regalia, and adopted his Fire Lord role with ease. Save a few group interactions with his friends, he spent the whole afternoon and night between the noblemen and his councilmen, trying too hard (and for once in his life, succeeding) to not look in Katara’s direction. He didn’t even breathe in her direction if he could avoid it. 

He was completely sure he was following the manual’s instructions perfectly until he was back in his room, in his way to get rid of the heavy ropes he had to wear during the whole evening, when he heard a commotion from the corridor. Followed by a loud knock and the movement of his room’s doors being busted open. He nearly wasn’t able to get a look at the expression of the guards posted outside his doors —half shocked and half amused— before his eyes drifted to the furious waterbender in front of him. 

She didn’t even bother to close the doors behind her before she started to shout at him, her finger held in front of her, accusingly pointing in his direction. 

“ _What on Tui and La’s names is wrong with you!?_ ” 

She started. He let himself stare at her dumbfoundedly for a few seconds before he regained his composure and motonied for the guards to leave them. Also closing the doors he was sure the girl didn’t break by some outstanding miracle. 

“ _Sorry?_ ” he asked, confused, once they were completely alone. Trying hard not too look at her for to long in case his brain started short circuiting as it usually did in her presence. 

“ _Oh, I’d show you sorry!_ ” she spatted, walking angrily to him and stopping only a few inches a way. The pointy nail of her index finger poking at his chest through his undershirt. 

“ _Katara!_ ” he yelp, taking one step back only to be followed by her. He considered taking a second one, but as he tried, he noticed he was backed up against the wall of his room; trapped between the cold surface and an enraged waterbender. He mentally thanked Agni she hadn’t her water skin with her, although she could yet hurt him without it if she wanted. Still, it was a small consolation. “ _What’s going on?_ ” He tried to use his most imposing tone, but in the end it sounded more like a plea than anything else. 

“ _What’s going on? What’s going on!?_ ” she shouted. “ _You tell me! You stupid-_ “ A light hit against his chest. “ _and inconsiderate_ -“ another poke against his arm. “ _and exasperating-_ “ back to the chest. “ _Jerkbender!_ ” 

When she seemed like she had it out of her system, her breathing slightly labored and her shoulders a little less tensed, she retrieved from her position. A step, maybe two. Still to close for Zuko’s brain to normally function and processing what the hell had just happened. 

“ _Why are you avoiding me?_ ” She spoke again, this time less fiercely. If he could be thinking clearly, he would have noticed the defeat and vulnerability in her voice. 

“ _I’m— Katara,_ ” he started, poorly; which only gained him another glare from the brunette. “ _I’m not avoiding you_ .” But he was, _wasn’t that what he was supposed to be doing according to Aunt Wu’s book? Wasn’t this stuff supposed to be helping him?_ Because, with the way she looked at him just now and the remains of her hits against his skin (which surely would leave him a couple bruises) he was completely sure nothing good came from this instruction. 

“ _Stop it, Zuko! Do you think I’m stupid?_ ” she roared, turning her back on him and pacing along his room. In another situation, his brain would surely had started to conjure the different scenarios where she would be in his room at that time of the night (or more specifically, _how she would be_ ). Sadly, those scenarios seemed farther than ever now. 

“ _You’ve been avoiding me for two days! Two whole days! And at first I thought, ‘maybe he’s just busy, the ball is almost here and everything’. But then, you’ve avoided me in the ball too! You talked to everyone! E-v-e-r-y-o-n-e! But when I got close to you, you’d just turn your nose on me and stalk away like I’m a kind of disease or something!_ ” her pacing had came to a halt then, her gaze piercing him in place as he fought with himself and took a few steps towards her. “ _Why, Zuko? Did I do something wrong?_ ” she asked weakly. Now he did noticed the defeat in her undertone. Now, he didn’t hesitate in crossing the space between the both and wrapped his arms around her body tenderly. 

“ _You have done nothing wrong_.” he stated, more like whispered against her ear. 

“ _Then why, Zuko?_ ” she muttered against his chest, and he couldn’t help but think _how much he wanted this_ , to be with her like this; but not ever in this circumstance. He hated to see her in distress, and hated himself more for being him the one that had caused it. He briefly contemplated writing a very impolite note to Aunt Wu and gave her an earful for causing this situation. But that would have to wait, for now. 

He sighed, his hand coming to her hair and gently caressing her creases. “ _You wouldn’t believe me if I told you I had Fire-Lordy things, right?_ ” he tried to joke, earning him another slight hit, this time in his middle ribs. “ _Right._ ” He chucked. He scanned his brain for a believable excuse, one that didn’t exclaim ‘ _Hey, Katara; I’m freaking in love with you and I was following some sick advice from a strange fortune teller my uncle’s apparently friends with_ ’. But he has never been at making excuses, much less attempting to lie. 

So he did the only thing that he could. With a longer sigh than before, he came clean. 

He started at the very beginning, or at least at what he thought was the beginning; detailing from his thoughts and reactions when he found the leather manual wrapped in his desk, till the steps and advances he had made (and thought were successful). 

He had thought of a few possible reactions from Katara once he had the guts to confess his feelings. 

The more delusional ones always ended up with her jumping into his arms and him kissing her until they were both breathless. 

The more believable ones ending with him iced to a wall and a very enraged and upset waterbender screaming at him and threatening him with doing very unpleasant and painful things. 

What he had never —in a million years— imagined was said waterbender, doubled up in herself and clutching at her sides in front of him, tears running through her cheeks while her throat fought for air to keep _laughing_ endlessly at him. 

* * *

_Step 3: Make her laugh_

He was aware that was supposed to be a good sign, the _laughter_. 

Damn, he remembered it being the next step in that freaking and stupid manual; but he was also sure it wasn’t supposed to be like that. Katara laughing at him —nothing more and nothing less than just after he had confessed his burning love for her—, didn’t look like a good sign at all. 

He waited for it to stop, his scowl growing deeper on his face; but his expression only seemed to encourage the water girl to keep going. Zuko would be concerned about her passing out ( _can someone pass out from so much laughter, anyway?_ ) if he wasn’t utterly and tremendously mortified. 

He turned his back on her, paced the room for a bit, then looked back at her. Then he started pacing again. She had moved to his bed and nested there, her hands still on her stomach while she tried to subdued her giggles. 

He made his way to the opposite side of the bed, to one of his nightstands —the one where he carefully hides the manual out of prying eyes each night— and resumed his lecture on the pages. Certainly he had made some mistake, certainly he could turn the situation back to something good. Or certainly he could burn himself and put himself out of his misery. 

He was so absorbed in his self pity and in how he was planning to give a certain fortune teller a surprise visit he didn’t notice the giggling had stopped. Neither he noticed the movement on the other side of his mattress, the amused waterbender crawling her way to his side. 

He did notice, however, how she leaned against him, her chin coming to rest over his shoulder. His body tensed against better predicament, and he couldn’t help but wrinkle the pages he was holding when he felt her arms enveloping his middle from behind. 

“ _Zuko._ ” she spoke, softly near his ear. The amusement still noticeable in her voice, reminding him he was holding the very same manual that had gotten in that situation and internally cringing while he considered if it was possible to die of embarrassment. 

At his lack of response, she separated from his back, gently prying the book out from his hands and settling it somewhere in the bed far from them. “ _Zuko._ ” She repeated, this time a little louder; causing him to finally gaze up at her, his cheeks burning. 

He wasn’t sure if the look he was welcomed with calmed his nerves or made his insides burn even brighter. Before he could form a coherent thought, though, her hand came to rest against his cheek —his scarred cheek— and a soft smile was drawn in her lips. 

She had moved closer, somehow, and he didn’t know _when she moved closer_ ; but she was, her breath tingling against the skin of his lips. Time seemed to stop, or maybe his heart did —he didn’t know anymore—, because in that moment all he could do was look into her cerulean eyes (her bright and big and engulfing cerulean eyes) and try to remember how to breathe properly. 

So when she talked again, practically against his lips, her eyes piercing his own, all thoughts he could conjure were ‘ _how the hell did he get that lucky_ ’.

All thoughts, however, banished from his mind when her other hand came to rest at the back of her neck; accompanied from a “ _Would you stop looking at that stupid guide and_ **_kiss me_ ** _already?_ ” leaving her lips. 

All he could do in that moment was _comply_. 


End file.
